


the melody that you create

by Suicix



Category: GOT7
Genre: Anal Fingering, Comeplay, Developing Relationship, Finger Sucking, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, Kink Discovery, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-07 01:16:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11048265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suicix/pseuds/Suicix
Summary: It starts with the piano, and from there, Yugyeom can't stop thinking about it.





	the melody that you create

It starts with the piano. Yugyeom’s always admired the way Youngjae plays, but it’s always been about the sound, about the melodies that pour into Yugyeom’s ears as he listens, whether Youngjae’s playing a cover or composing something new. He never really dared himself to look – not when he was so sure the impossible crush he had on Youngjae _was_ impossible – but now, now they’ve been together for a short while, he’s started to watch.

And that’s how it begins.

They’re at Youngjae’s, in the studio he set up in his brother’s home, and Youngjae’s showing Yugyeom what Yugyeom knows will be Ars’ newest masterpiece. When the song’s finished, anyway. Youngjae says he’s stuck on the bridge.

Even so, he plays the rest of the song for Yugyeom. It’s a ballad, sad and soulful, and even though it’s rather slow, there are some complicated looking piano parts. Yugyeom’s eyes are rapt on Youngjae’s hands; he’s in awe of the ease with which Youngjae’s fingers glide over the keys, how smooth and effortless he makes it look. There’s Youngjae’s voice too, of course, just as powerful and beautiful as ever, but it’s his fingers that Yugyeom’s really concentrating on.

(He’s trying his best not to imagine the way it feels when those hands are on him, Youngjae’s fingertips warm against his skin, the touch making him shiver. Youngjae’s hands drifting down his chest, on his thighs, his – _no_. That’s all beyond inappropriate right now.)

Youngjae finishes playing with a showy flourish of keys.

“So?” he asks, turning his head to look at Yugyeom. “What do you think?”

Yugyeom clears his throat before answering; his mouth feels dry after watching Youngjae’s hands so intently.

“I think it’s great,” Yugyeom says. “Your songs are always great, hyung.”

Youngjae beams at him, smile so wide and eyes so bright that _oh_ , that’s a _sun_ beam if ever Yugyeom’s saw one.

“Thank you.” Youngjae bows his head a little. “If I finally get that bridge worked out I should be able to record this month.”

Yugyeom nods, acknowledging. He can’t wait to hear it as a finished piece. Youngjae’s hands are still hovering over the keys, and even though he isn’t playing, isn’t even moving his fingers, it’s still where Yugyeom’s eyes wander.

“Do you think you could teach me sometime?” he asks. “To play piano, that is.”

He’s hardly even thinking as he says it, but Youngjae lights up all over again.

“Of course I can!” Youngjae exclaims. “I know you’ll be a good student, Yugyeomie.”

Yugyeom hopes so. Even if, yeah, this has basically come about because he’s realised he maybe-probably-definitely has a bit of a thing for Youngjae’s hands, it’s still something that will help with his own composing.

He doesn’t get to stay over that night; they’ve got a schedule tomorrow so he has to be at the dorm. They say goodbye in the hallway, Coco yapping at their feet, and even just the way Youngjae laces his fingers with Yugyeom’s _does_ something, makes Yugyeom react. He swears his blood’s boiling hotter, bubbling up and almost burning just thinking about it. He can’t help but wonder if Youngjae’s noticed, if he noticed the way Yugyeom watched when he played earlier. It doesn’t seem like it, but Yugyeom can’t tell with him sometimes. Youngjae can be surprising when he wants to be.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Youngjae says, leaning in close to kiss Yugyeom on the cheek.

“Yeah.” Yugyeom nods, and Youngjae scoops Coco up into his arms before opening the door. “Tomorrow.” Yugyeom takes his face mask out of his pocket and puts it on, and then heads out.

Youngjae waves at him until he’s almost out of sight, and Yugyeom can hardly see his hands from where he is, but he knows he’ll be thinking about it.

(That night, Yugyeom dreams. He dreams, and somehow, it’s so vivid even though he’s sleeping in his own bed rather than the one in Youngjae’s empty room where the sheets still smell like Youngjae.

It’s dark, and Yugyeom can’t seem to see anything, but that doesn’t matter when he can hear, when he can _feel_. There’s the sound of Youngjae’s voice, sweet with a teasing edge, and then his hands are there, too, are everywhere. Yugyeom’s sure it wouldn’t actually be possible for Youngjae to touch him like this, for anyone to touch anyone like this, but it’s a dream so that hardly even matters. He just lets himself drown in it, lets Youngjae play his body like an instrument, and–)

Noise starts to break through Youngjae’s voice and Yugyeom’s sleep: the sound of the alarm on Bambam’s phone going off. Yugyeom groans and presses his face to the sheets. He only hopes he wasn’t talking in his sleep.

“Hey, come on!” After a minute or so, Bambam chucks a pillow at him. “Do you want Jaebum-hyung to yell at you for not getting up?”

Yugyeom doesn’t. He sits up, slow, and stretches. They have a schedule to get ready for.

Of course, arriving at the company building for the show they’re filming means seeing Youngjae – means remembering the dream. Yugyeom’s not even that distracted by it – he’s a _professional,_ OK? – but he knows it’s a _thing_ , at least, and that he should probably tell Youngjae when they’ve next got some time alone together. He thinks about it when Youngjae touches even just his shoulder, when he notices the ring that Youngjae’s wearing gleaming in the light. Maybe he’s more distracted than he thinks.

They have some more stuff to shoot in the afternoon, and then a radio show at night. Youngjae comes back to the dorm with the rest of them afterwards, but they’re too exhausted to do much else other than fall asleep, the two of them curled up in Youngjae’s otherwise empty bed, one of his arms stretched out across Yugyeom’s chest (and honestly, it’s a shock that last night’s dream doesn’t end up repeated).

It’s at least a week before there’s the time for Yugyeom to spend the night at Youngjae’s. Youngjae’s brother is out, so it’s just the two of them in the house (as far as humans go, anyway), and Yugyeom feels the most relaxed he’s been in a while. It’s nice to just be able to be with Youngjae, to feel the warmth of his body, to kiss him whenever. As new as their relationship actually is, it being founded on a strong friendship means they’re so at ease with each other. Hardly anything’s even changed: Yugyeom’s just actually able to act on it when he wants to lean across and press his mouth to Youngjae’s – provided that there aren’t cameras or many other people around.

His thing for Youngjae’s hands, though – that’s new.

Right now, they’re on the couch in the lounge, sitting close enough that they’re almost but not quite in each other’s laps, Youngjae’s arms around Yugyeom’s waist because he doesn’t seem to know how _not_ to touch when they’re alone together like this. Yugyeom definitely isn’t complaining.

When Youngjae’s arms unravel from where they’re wrapped around him, though, he has to frown.

“I said I’d teach you some piano, didn’t I?” Youngjae says before Yugyeom can open his mouth to speak.

“Oh, yeah.” Suddenly, Yugyeom’s back to not complaining again. “You did.”

They head to the studio, and Youngjae shuts the door behind them so Coco can’t come in and bother them. Youngjae moves the other chair in the room close to his piano stool and they sit side by side at the keyboard. Yugyeom knows most of the basics of how to play already, but Youngjae’s voice as he explains things is soothing, and it’s never a bad time for Yugyeom to try and sharpen his technique.

“Your hand shouldn’t be that flat – here,” Youngjae says after a while, reaching across to correct the way Yugyeom’s playing. “See, that’s better.”

His hand’s still on top of Yugyeom’s, and he smiles, squeezing Yugyeom’s hand slightly, and Yugyeom can’t even seem to help it. He makes this _noise_ , mostly breath and so quiet that it would barely even be audible if they weren’t in a room set up to have good acoustics, but – well. That’s where they are.

“What is it?” Youngjae asks. His smile fades a little, not in a way that makes him look sad, but – concerned. “Are you OK?”

“Just… your hands,” Yugyeom says simply. He doesn’t know what else there is he can say, even though it’s actually more than that: it’s also Youngjae’s skill and competence when it comes to playing, his enthusiasm about music in general, how eager he is to share that. It’s attractive, _sexy_. This is supposed to just be about the music, though, not an opportunity for sex. (Except, really, it’s kind of been that since the beginning.)

Youngjae looks down at where their hands are still touching, and then back up at Yugyeom.

“What about them?”

Yugyeom doesn’t even know how to answer that. Their shoulders are brushing against each other, and Youngjae’s hand is so warm, and so is the look in his eyes. The only way Yugyeom seems able to respond is non-verbally.

He leans in and lets their lips press together. It’s only soft to start with, but then Youngjae’s hand squeezes harder at Yugyeom’s, and the kiss gets harder, too: gets harder and deeper and louder and wetter.

“I’ve been thinking about it since the last time I was here,” Yugyeom murmurs after pulling away from the kiss. They’re still so close that he’s basically talking against Youngjae’s mouth. “When you played that song for me. I watched your hands, and then I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and then – then I _dreamed_ about it.”

“About my hands?” Youngjae wonders. He doesn’t look concerned anymore. He looks – intrigued.

“That’s right. Definitely at least once, but probably even more. You can never tell with dreams, right?”

This time, Youngjae’s the one to instigate the kiss. Yugyeom’s almost immediately moaning into it, can’t even pretend not to. Youngjae’s other hand is cupping his face, and Yugyeom wants more-more-more, wants to be overwhelmed by this touch, submerged in it.

“I think we should take this to my room,” Youngjae says when they reluctantly break apart again, his voice audibly affected by the kiss. His eyes are dark, his pupils are dilated, and Yugyeom nods in agreement just seeing him like this.

“Yeah,” he says, a little breathless. Again, what else is there to say? He wants Youngjae’s hands on him, wants to be taken apart in the way he’s been thinking about, the way that’s even invaded his dreams.

Their hands are joined as they leave the room, as they make their way to Youngjae’s bedroom. Yugyeom lets Youngjae lead him there, his whole body thrumming with anticipation. As much as Yugyeom just loves getting to simply _be_ with Youngjae, whether they’re watching something together or Yugyeom’s watching as Youngjae plays video games or they’re sitting and talking or even just sitting and doing nothing at all, there’s _this_ , too, and this is the best of all. There’s hardly been the time for anything, not when they’re as busy as they are now, but whenever they’ve been able to make the most of it, it’s been good. So, so good.

They’re kissing again the moment Youngjae’s bedroom door is shut behind them, one of Youngjae’s hands on Yugyeom’s cheek and the other gripping at Yugyeom’s arm. Even just this, just thinking about how he’s going to get the thing that’s been constantly on his mind for the past week, has Yugyeom getting hard in his jeans. He reaches for the waistband of Youngjae’s sweatpants with both hands, tucking his thumbs inside, against Youngjae’s skin, and presses their hips together. The proximity of it is electric, has Yugyeom grinding against Youngjae even more desperately and Youngjae groaning into his mouth.

It isn’t long at all before Yugyeom can feel Youngjae hard against him as well, before Youngjae’s pulling away and saying, “My bed, maybe?”

That sounds good. Yugyeom ends up sitting up by the pillows with Youngjae on his knees in front of him, shuffling forward to straddle him. Soon enough, Yugyeom’s t-shirt and socks are gone and Youngjae’s running his hands down Yugyeom’s chest. His hands move slowly, half like he’s teasing but half knowing that this is exactly what Yugyeom wants.

He brushes down from Yugyeom’s collarbones with his knuckles, and then the thumb on that hand circles around one of Yugyeom’s nipples. It’s only gentle, but Yugyeom still shudders at the touch, and when Youngjae adds some pressure, Yugyeom full on whimpers.

“Yeah?” Youngjae asks.

“Yeah,” Yugyeom tells him. He lets out a moan when Youngjae’s thumb actually flicks even more forcefully at his nipple once it’s hard: he’s sensitive, and he knows Youngjae knows this. “ _Fuck,_ hyung.”

Youngjae takes his time, moving from one nipple to the other, and then both at once. Here, his hands work slowly, not like they did on the piano keys, but that’s all part of this: all part of the teasing, of making it feel good. He moves his hands lower, down Yugyeom’s stomach, and then finally, _finally_ , he’s reached the button and zip on Yugyeom’s jeans.

“Take your shirt off first,” Yugyeom tells Youngjae, because as much as he needs his cock to be free of the tight fabric, as much as he needs to be _touched,_ it isn’t fair that he’ll be nearly naked when Youngjae’s anything but that.

Youngjae smiles and does what’s asked of him, pulling his t-shirt off over his head and letting it slip to the floor. When he looks back at Yugyeom, his smile is wider, is wickeder. He lets his hand glide down Yugyeom’s chest again, just one finger this time, and then undoes the button.

“So,” he says. The word’s just as playful as the look in his eyes. “You want me to touch you, then?”

The zip’s undone now, too. Youngjae cups Yugyeom’s dick in his hand, ever so subtly adjusting the pressure of his palm as he does, and Yugyeom’s breath hitches in his throat. He’s so desperate for it that even over the fabric, _two_ layers of fabric, it feels incredible.

“Yeah,” he says. “And…”

“And?” Youngjae’s speaking again before Yugyeom even gets to say it.

“More than that,” Yugyeom admits, and Youngjae’s expression turns curious. “You… you have lube, right?”

Youngjae nods and heads to his bedside table. He roots around in the drawer for a moment before finding it, and he chucks the bottle onto the bed.

“Here,” he says. He’s kneeling over Yugyeom again now, the back of his hand grazing against the bulge in Yugyeom’s jeans. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” Yugyeom says. He reaches out and takes Youngjae’s hand in his own, hoping it shows exactly what he means.

Once more, Youngjae nods. He knows. He moves his hands so he can hook his fingers in the loops on Yugyeom’s jeans, and Yugyeom lifts his hips up off the bed so they can come off. Getting rid of them is a relief; they’re tight and Yugyeom’s so hard that he’s almost aching. He doesn’t waste a moment taking his briefs off afterwards, letting them join the rest of the clothes on the floor.

There’s precome leaking from the tip of his cock, but he doesn’t touch, doesn’t even give it a quick jerk: he wants Youngjae to be the one to do that. Youngjae’s uncapped the lube and has started slicking his fingers up with it, and Youngjae isn’t touching Yugyeom either, but Yugyeom can’t help but shiver just from the anticipation alone.

They haven’t done this together, not until now, not when there hasn’t been the time, but Yugyeom’s done it to himself before, if only infrequently. He’s only ever had enough privacy in the shower (too slippery, and there was always the fear that someone would start banging on the door and tell him he’s been in there long enough) or if Bambam was abroad so Yugyeom was the only one in their room.

Now, though, he and Youngjae have all the privacy they need.

Yugyeom spreads his legs out some more so Youngjae can fit between, and Youngjae’s hand holds onto one of Yugyeom’s thighs to keep him steady. His other hand hovers over Yugyeom’s cock, wanders down underneath his balls, and slowly – so, _so_ slowly – one of his fingers pushes inside.

“Is this OK?” The look on Youngjae’s face is serious, like he really wants to know if he’s doing well.

“More than OK.” Yugyeom’s telling the truth: sure, it hurts, but that’s just what it’s like at first. It’s been a while, and he has to adjust before it starts feeling good. “You can give me another – I find it’s easier to like, get used to two fingers instead of just one?”

Youngjae does as he says, and Yugyeom has to wince at the bit of extra pain, but he can take it, he can bear it for now because he knows it’s going to get better.

Youngjae pushes in deeper, humming in concentration, and – _oh_. That’s it. That’s what Yugyeom’s been waiting for. The pleasure is shocking, not just surprising but electrifying. It makes Yugyeom moan, loud and unrestrained, and _that_ makes Youngjae look up at him, eyes sparkling.

“That?” Youngjae wonders, and Yugyeom nods, another groan his verbal answer.

Youngjae fucks him like that for a while, steady and sure with two fingers, and–

“Can I–?” Youngjae starts to ask, but Yugyeom’s just nodding again, wildly this time. As far as Yugyeom’s concerned right now, Youngjae can do whatever he wants as long as that involves his hands on Yugyeom’s body.

“Please,” he says, clenching around Youngjae’s fingers a little tighter. “Please, hyung, I need _more_.”

Youngjae gives him more. A third finger joins the others, the stretch even better than before. Yugyeom can’t help the whine that comes out, can’t help but rock himself on Youngjae’s fingers. It’s good, so fucking good, better than it’s ever been when he’s done it to himself because he doesn’t have to worry about anyone else being around, isn’t in some awkward position, doesn’t have to use his arms.

And even more so, because of Youngjae. Youngjae and how eager he always is to do his best, Youngjae and how good he is to Yugyeom, Youngjae and his _hands_ , god. Just – Youngjae.

Yugyeom takes a moment to just look Youngjae up and down, to take him in. His face, flushed from sex and his brow furrowed in concentration. His chest, the sweat dripping down from his neck to his stomach. His dick in his sweatpants, and fuck, Youngjae’s so _hard_ underneath them. Yugyeom can see the line of his cock under the soft fabric, but even more than this he wants to see it bare, wants to see it flushed and leaking for him, because of him.

Yugyeom’s eyes flutter shut when Youngjae’s fingers thrust inside even harder and deeper, and before he can open them, Youngjae’s other hand wraps around Yugyeom’s dick and starts to stroke. The rhythm matches the way Youngjae’s fucking into Yugyeom with his fingers, but gets more uneven the longer it goes on. Yugyeom just goes with it: he relaxes against the pillows even more and lets himself go. He’s so _close_ now.

“Fuck,” he pants out, trying to push his cock up into Youngjae’s hand some more even though that’s difficult when he’s got Youngjae’s fingers inside him, too. “Fuck, Youngjae, that’s it, that’s so good, I’m–”

No-one else is around; this isn’t the dorm where there’s always someone else on the other side of the wall. Usually, Youngjae’s the one who has trouble keeping quiet, who needs to bite down on his lip or be kissed to mask the noise, but now, Yugyeom can be as loud as he wants as well.

And so he is.

His words break off into a moan as his eyes squeeze shut again, as his mind seems to fill with static, as he comes, hard, mostly over Youngjae’s hand.

Youngjae stops moving both his hands. He lets go of Yugyeom’s cock and pulls his fingers back. The empty feeling’s such a contrast to how Yugyeom felt just moments ago, though he isn’t so much empty but _fulfilled_ , his heart beating so hard that he swears he can hear it. He breathes out, satisfied, eyes drifting to Youngjae’s hand, and – _oh_. That’s something else he wants.

“Please,” he says, nodding at Youngjae’s hand.

It takes a moment for Youngjae to understand what he’s asking for, and his eyes widen in surprise, but he does it all the same. He stretches his arm out, moving a little closer so he can reach more easily. He traces his thumb over Yugyeom’s mouth and Yugyeom opens it for him, his tongue brushing against Youngjae’s skin.

“You should take your sweatpants off,” Yugyeom says, only the slightest bit muffled by Youngjae’s thumb, though he knows that will be difficult. Youngjae still tries, though, pushes both the sweatpants and his underwear down his hips the best he can with one hand so his cock’s out. He’ll definitely have to wash those pants afterwards – that hand’s sticky with lube – but that really doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that Yugyeom can see him now, that Yugyeom can get him off.

Yugyeom reaches for Youngjae’s cock, and in return, Youngjae slips a finger into Yugyeom’s mouth, and then another.

“You said two was better earlier,” Youngjae says, his voice low and his smile naughty, and Yugyeom would be smirking right back if his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied. He hopes the look in his eyes says it all.

Yugyeom starts up a rhythm on Youngjae’s dick, his grip tight and the pace fast, all while licking the taste of himself away from Youngjae’s fingers. Youngjae thrusts forward into Yugyeom’s hand, matching his hips to the movement of Yugyeom’s hand in the way Yugyeom couldn’t earlier. Yugyeom might be the main dancer, and sure, how good he is at it means he has an edge over others when it comes to rhythms and beats, but _shit_ , the way Youngjae’s moving right now really is something. Yugyeom can’t tear his eyes away, just as mesmerised as he’s been by Youngjae’s hands this whole damn week.

And fuck, he’s still mesmerised by those same hands right now. His come’s mostly gone, but he still insists on having Youngjae’s fingers in his mouth, sucking hard. Youngjae’s other hand is on Yugyeom’s thigh, clutching so tightly that his nails are almost digging in.

His nails _do_ dig into the flesh when he finally comes, loud like always, the noise enhanced by the fact that they’re in an empty house. Yugyeom thinks he’s gorgeous like this, his head thrown back and his eyes shut and his mouth wide open, unable to control what comes out of it. He watches as Youngjae comes down from his orgasm, as his eyes slowly open and his body stills.

Youngjae frees his fingers from Yugyeom’s mouth and wipes his fingers on Yugyeom’s chest afterwards.

“It’s _your_ spit,” he says when Yugyeom makes a face at him, and OK, there’s nothing to argue with there.

They settle down next to each other against the pillows, and Youngjae removes his pants and briefs completely so he’s more comfortable. They can get cleaned up and have a shower in a minute. Now, it’s time to catch their breath.

“So,” Youngjae says, turning his head towards Yugyeom. “My hands, hm?”

“It was the piano, I _said,_ ” Yugyeom tells him. “You’re just good at it, OK, and it’s… kind of hot. Really hot, actually.”

“I think the same things about you when I watch you dance,” Youngjae says. He pokes Yugyeom’s hipbone, sharp. “It’s the way you move your hips, you know?”

Yugyeom flushes and buries his face in Youngjae’s shoulder and the pillows, but he still reaches for one of Youngjae’s hands and laces their fingers together tight, just because he can.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, everyone - you can also find me on tumblr @ vibetechs!!


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